


'Cuz Baby You're a Cut above the rest

by Justmenoworries



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Gabriel did NOT sign up for this, Good Dad Gabriel Reyes, Jack is seriously mentally unwell, Jack murders a lot of people, M/M, Mental Instability, Not quite as good Dad Jack Morrison, Obsessive Behavior, Serial Killer Jack Morrison, Slasher76, Stalking, Wow a Reaper76 fic where Jack is the psychotic blood-thirsty murderer?, but he does try, he gets a cookie for that, like a lot of people, who'da thunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 04:39:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16298336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justmenoworries/pseuds/Justmenoworries
Summary: Gabriel shouldn't have walked through the fields at night.The premise of this fic is based on this awesome comic: https://petitecreme.tumblr.com/post/178926475262/careful-passing-the-fields-this-time-of-year





	'Cuz Baby You're a Cut above the rest

“Stupid fucking car, I can’t believe this...”

 

The full moon is shining over the fields on his left and right. It should be comforting, having at least this as a light source, but the way it makes the shadows grow ever so longer makes Gabriel’s skin crawl. He pulls his black leather jacket tighter around himself and keeps walking, hoping that he remembered the way to the gas station right.

 

The wind blows over the rows, making them rustle and twitch like a bunch of restless animals. Gabriel shudders slightly. He briefly considers picking up one of the bigger branches on the path.

 

“The one night I have off and I get stranded in the middle of bum fuck nowhere,“ he mutters, letting his eyes wander over his surroundings while he’s walking. “...where anything could get me.”

 

It’s so quiet. Gabriel doesn’t think he’s ever experienced silence like that before. Having a moody teenager at home limits the amount of quiet time one gets. And even the one he does get is usually either short- lived or filled with the tell-tale sounds of Jesse’s snoring. Maybe that’s the reason he keeps talking to himself. He’s just not used to silence anymore.

 

He sighs deeply. “Pull it together, Gabriel.”

 

It’s not like he’s completely helpless. Being a 6’1 feet tall veteran usually discourages people from harassing you. Plus it’s the middle of the night and the area he is currently walking through is completely deserted. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

 

Still…

 

He just can’t shake the feeling that he’s being watched.

 

For what has to be the tenth time this evening, he mentally slaps himself for not packing his phone when he left. He hopes Jesse hasn’t tried to call him yet. Although he doesn’t like to show it, the boy is terrified of the possibility that Gabriel might leave him. Of course, Gabriel never would but after what Jesse’s been through he understands that words alone just won’t be enough to disperse that particular fear. At least for now.

 

He decides to step it up a bit.

 

Creepy fields or no, it’s way past late and he’s more than ready to just go home for more than one reason.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack watches the man hastily step down the path through the eye holes of his mask. He’s been watching the guy for a while now. It’s been some time since someone decided to take this path. It’s been a while since he got to take care of...the _Itch_.

 

He’s handsome, that man, tall, dark-skinned and muscular. It’s almost a pity what Jack is about to do to him. If he weren’t prey, he’d be just Jack’s type, that one. He’ll make sure to keep his face intact later, if he can actually manage to hold himself back this time. Maybe he’ll even cut off the man’s head and take it with him as a trophy. He’ll have to hide it well, though. Hana has been a little bit too curious lately. Asking questions when he comes home just a little later than he promised and even trying to stick her nose into his shed behind the house, where he keeps his trophies, when he specifically told her _not to_. He supposes that’s to do with her teens being right around the corner.

But enough of that. Slowly, silently, Jack moves through the fields, rifle clutched tightly in his hands and ready. He feels like he’s about to burst from anticipation. The Itch has been driving him crazy those past few weeks. It was always there, buzzing around in his skull, tearing through his thoughts, messing up his dreams. It’s like having a particularly nasty wasp trapped inside his head.

 

The police around here had gotten wise to him of late, warning people from entering the fields at night, patrolling the area at random intervals, even trying to get the farmers to close them off. The memory still makes him shake with rage. It’s their fault he’s like this now. So desperate and aching for it, like an addict craving the next shot.

 

And tonight he’s going to get it.

 

The amalgamation of his old rifle and a recently acquired chainsaw he’s tinkered together in the shed feels like an old friend in his arms. Jack can tell it’s been waiting for this too.

 

He takes a step closer to the man, taking care to stay concealed. Up close he’s even more attractive. Jack’s never been one to get distracted, but even he has his...needs. Yes, he’s definitely taking a piece of this one home. He can hold it while he jerks off, so he can imagine they’re doing it together. Sounds like a plan.

 

He waits for a few more minutes, then sprints through the crops, trigger-finger almost at the ready.

 

_Crack!_

 

In the deafening silence of the fields, the sound echoes through the air like a gun shot. Jack curses and looks down at the treacherous branch he’s just stepped on, before immediately looking back up to the other man on the path.

 

He’s turned around, eyes wildly searching the field and path. He’s not shaking, Jack notices. People usually do. Well, no sense in trying to stay hidden now. With one button pressed, the saw howls to live, filling the night with its song. The man winces at the sound and turns around, trying to make out the source.

 

And it is at this moment that Jack chooses to reveal himself. With the wild enthusiasm of a hawk descending on a mouse he breaks out of the fields, saw raised.

 

The man’s eyes grow wide with shock. Jack expects him to freeze, but instead he wastes no time and runs. Jack can barely stop himself from laughing. Handsome _and_ smart! He’s hit the jackpot with this prey.

 

The man is fast, but Jack has done this so many times already. He charges after the prey, eyes glowing with blood-lust, weapon roaring and screaming at his side. He’s getting closer and from the mortified looks the man is throwing over his shoulder as he’s panting and struggling to run faster, he noticed too.

 

In an unexpected maneuver that makes Jack’s heart skip with glee, the man takes a hard right turn and nearly throws himself into the fields. Jack follows suit. No prey has tried that trick with him for some time. He knows those fields like his backyard. If the man hopes to trick him into getting lost, he’s got another thing coming.

 

He hears a faint rustle on his left, almost drowned out by the noise his saw makes. He turns around a second to late – a heavy weight crushes into him, pulling him down to the ground and then he and the man are fighting for his still active weapon. Rolling over each other in the dirt, trying to get a good grip on the saw without losing a limb, while simultaneously trying to push the other off.

 

There is pure, unabashed fear in the man’s eyes, yet he fights more ferocious, more desperate than any of the others before him. And Jack loves it. This, _this_ is what he’s been searching for! No, it’s even better than that!

 

Someone who _actually_ gives him a good hunt, someone who actually fights and fights well! Suddenly all the others before seem more like cheap placebos to him, watered down imitations who could only numb The Itch, not satisfy it.

 

But this man is different and for a short time Jack even wonders if he might lose. But then the man gets a little too confident. He makes a leap for the saw and Jack uses the opportunity, to whack him in the head with his free arm. The man grunts and falls back, slightly disoriented and Jack uses the opportunity to throw him off onto his back. Before the man can do anything, Jack is already back on his feet, squatting down on his chest, while pinning his arms with his legs.

 

 

The man struggles, screams for help. This time, jack does laugh. Who the fuck does he think will hear him out here? They’re all alone, just the two of them. A date by moonshine. How romantic. Jack smiles and raises his saw, drinking in the man’s living features for the last time. Even like this, with mud smeared all over his face, he’s still gorgeous. He has a small cut on his right cheek , Jack notices. It’s bleeding. Not that he has to worry about that for much longer.

 

Jack smiles behind his mask as he slowly, slowly lowers his saw down to the man’s neck.

 

The man’s eyes go wide and he tries in vain to get his arms free, tries to put more distance between his neck and the blade.

 

“No! No, please! What the fuck did I do?”

 

Jack doesn’t answer. No need to talk to a dead man. Only a few inches left.

 

“Fuck, please!,” the man screams, still trying to get away, tears starting to form in his eyes. “Please, I have a son!”

 

Jack stops mid-motion. He doesn’t know why, but he does. He just stops and he sits there, eyes fixed on the man’s face, saw-blade only barely touching the skin of his neck. And then he does something he’s never done before: He talks to his prey.

 

“You have a kid?” he says, leaning back a bit, gruff voice taking on the slightest hint of uncertainty.

 

That brief moment of weakness and doubt is all it takes. With the brute strength of someone who has just seen their last way out, the man jerks up and roughly throws Jack off. His back hits the ground hard, his saw gets knocked out off his hands and slithers across the ground and when he looks up again, the man is already sprinting towards the path at top speed, not even looking back.

 

Jack just watches him go. He knows he should run after him. The man’s heard his voice. It may not be much, but the police has managed to arrest people with way less. Yet all he can do is stare as the man disappears between the rows of wheat. A son. He said he had a son. Jack should have guessed a guy like that couldn’t possibly be single. Still, when the man mentioned his kid, for a second Hana has been flashing through his mind. And how she would feel if he never came home. The thought made him hesitate, not for long, but long enough. Maybe he’s getting soft in his old age.

 

Jack slowly pulls himself back onto his feet, muttering curses under his breath, retrieves his saw and turns it off. No use going after that one now. He’s probably a mile away already, the way he was running. Better to just call it a night and fold it, before Hana wakes up. He walks through the fields towards home, dragging his weapon behind him and wondering just where the fuck he went wrong tonight.

 

* * *

 

 

Brigitte loves the night shift. It’s calm and cozy and just a tad spooky. Not many customers come at this time, so she gets to work on her inventions or simply read a book with Gustav on her lap, with the faint sound of her father’s steady hammering in the background. Who could ask for more?

 

Today she’s just about to finish her latest novel (a story about a Lady Knight with a black cat as her companion) when she hears heavy steps coming from outside. With a sigh she puts down the book, lifts Gustav up from her legs and resumes her place behind the counter, smiling her best “How may I help you today?” - smile.

 

It drops as as soon as she gets a good look at the customer. It’s a tall man, about her father’s age. His face and clothing are caked with dirt and grime, he’s trembling and a cut on his right cheek draws a small trail of blood down the side of his face.

 

“Sorry,” he rasps, somehow sounding tired and restless at the same time. “But could I use your phone real quick? Somebody just tried to kill me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, I might or might not continue this. Not sure about it yet.


End file.
